Autumn Anthology

by Heather B. Moore

  Chapter Six

  Putting on a blue button-up business shirt and black dress slacks to meet Sophia for their daily mail sorting was probably overkill. But if he was going to ask her out, he wanted to make a good impression. That was also the reason for the red roses.

  She’s gonna know I’m crazy about her. He didn’t really care anymore. Two evenings spent with his arm around her had driven home an inarguable fact: having her in his life was too important to leave it up to chance. Maybe she’d brush him off or laugh at him, but at least he’d know.

  Ethan tapped the corner of the pile of mail on the patio table. Sorting mail didn’t usually make him jittery. Maybe if he practiced what he planned to say his nerves would calm down?

  “We should go out.” No. Too abrupt.

  “I’m pretty much in love with you.” He dismissed that opening line as well.

  “Are you busy tonight? Wanna have dinner with me? No pressure. You can say no if you want.” That just sounded stupid.

  Before he could try out any other approaches, Sophia’s door opened. Was it his imagination, or did her face light up a little when their eyes met?

  “Hey, Sophia,” he said.

  “Hey. You’re all dressed up.” She was absolutely checking him out. That was promising. “Do you have a date or something?”

  She was not only checking him out; she sounded disappointed at the possibility of him seeing someone else.

  “I may have a date,” Ethan said. “Depending on how the mail sorting goes today.”

  “She’s sending her answer by mail?”

  Ethan decided to play it cool and mysterious. He sat in his usual chair and started dividing the mail. “Computer-parts catalog.” He held it up before sliding it across the table toward her. “This bill’s mine, but you can have it if you want.”

  Sophia didn’t sit across from him like she usually did. She just watched him silently.

  Ethan kept sorting the mail. “Who gets the junk mail today?”

  Sophia hadn’t moved, hadn’t looked away from him.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Her eyebrows scrunched in, worry in her eyes. “Do you have a date... or something?”

  He didn’t need any more encouragement than that. “I’m not sure.” Ethan snatched the dozen red roses from under the table. Sophia eyed them suspiciously.

  “I was hoping these may help convince her,” Ethan said. “What do you think?”

  Sophia’s shoulders drooped, and she looked away. “She’ll love them.”

  He immediately changed tactics. He set the roses on the table and crossed to where Sophia stood, very near her door. She looked nervous, which actually helped him be less so.

  He took both of her hands in his. “Sophia.”

  She didn’t quite look at him.

  “I’ve been sitting out here waiting for you, trying to think of a way to ask you what you’re doing tonight.”

  That brought her eyes to his for just a moment.

  “And I almost got thrown out of the flower shop because I kept changing my mind about red roses versus white roses.” He slid one hand up her arm, pulling her a little closer. “I have reservations at three different places because I didn’t know which you were more likely to say yes to.”

  With that, he had her full attention. “Me?”

  Ethan nodded. “We’re a good team, and not just with solving mail mysteries. We both know how to promise to cook someone dinner but end up serving fast food.”

  The corner of her mouth tugged upward.

  “And we’re both good at eating enchiladas with neighbors,” he added.

  Her smile grew. Ethan snaked one arm around her waist. Sophia set a hand on his chest. She could probably feel his heart pounding. They were close enough he could see flakes of gold in her brown eyes.

  “So, you wanna go out... or something?” he asked.

  “I’ve been hoping you would ask me that for months.”

  Her candid confession inspired one of his own. “I almost have, a dozen times since you moved in. But I always chickened out.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t this time.”

  “So is that a yes?” He hoped so.

  Sophia nodded. Her gaze wandered to his lips, and her cheeks reddened. That was all the invitation he needed.

  He slipped his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her up to him. Slowly, so she could tell him if he’d made a mistake, he lowered his mouth to hers. She leaned in, meeting him in the middle. Neither of them initiated the kiss, it simply started between them. He held her as close and as tightly as he could. She clung to him, and he held her in return.

  Sophia whispered his name against his lips, and he was a goner. He kissed her long and good there on the porch. Ethan lost himself in that kiss, putting months of longing into every moment. He knew without a single doubt that she felt the same way. They’d wasted enough time. Two people, sharing a house, sharing a porch, but living separate lives, brought together by a single, long-lost letter.

  Sarah M. Eden is the author of multiple historical romances, including Whitney Award finalists Seeking Persephone and Courting Miss Lancaster. Combining her obsession with history and affinity for tender love stories, Sarah loves crafting witty characters and heartfelt romances. She holds a bachelor’s degree in research and happily spends hours perusing the reference shelves of her local library. Sarah has twice served as the Master of Ceremonies for the LDStorymakers Writers Conference, acted as the Writer in Residence at the Northwest Writers Retreat, and is one-third of the team at the AppendixPodcast.com. Sarah is represented by Pam van Hylckama Vlieg at Foreword Literary Agency.

  Visit Sarah’s website: http://www.sarahmeden.com

  Twitter: @sarahmeden

  Click on the covers to visit Sarah’s Amazon page:

  by Rachelle J. Christensen

  Chapter One

  “Again!” a little girl squealed as she brushed leaves off her pants.

  I smiled and continued digging in the flower bed, planting tulip bulbs. Silver maple trees lined the sidewalks of Silver Cascade Park, where I worked five days a week as caretaker. My nails were bad because I didn’t like gloves, and I had perpetual dirt stains on my knees, but it was my dream job.

  I watched the girl sail into the pile of leaves and seconds later run to a man screaming, “Again! Again!”

  As I wondered if they were father and daughter, a woman approached and hugged the girl. The man put his arm around her in a side hug, and they talked for a few minutes before the woman left with the little girl.

  Hmm, didn’t seem like a divorced couple, but then my people-watching skills had proven that there was always more than meets the eye. The man sauntered down the sidewalk. I thought I heard him humming something. Carpenter jeans with a good fit were a weakness of mine, and his retreating form was straining my eyes, so I put some muscle back into the flower bed and grabbed another handful of tulip bulbs.

  A few minutes later, a light wind picked up several leaves and sent them skittering across the sidewalk. The points of the maple leaves made a distinct sound, signaling that autumn had taken root in Boise, Idaho. I watched the leaves swirl and ignored thoughts of raking and leaf blowing.

  The man had come back and was on his hands and knees, searching through the grass. His carpenter jeans had a dark wash, which complimented his olive-toned skin. He appeared to be in his late twenties, maybe a few years older than my twenty-five years. I approached him, kicking a few leaves up as I walked.

  “Not to ask the obvious, but did you lose something?”

  He looked up. “Yeah, my keys.”

  “I’m Jillian Warren, Silver Cascade Park caretaker and finder of many sets of lost keys. Would you like some help?”

  He stood and brushed his hands on his pants then held out his hand. “Travis Banner. I’d love some help, because it helps to have keys if you want to drive home.”

  With a laugh, I shook his hand then knelt in the grass and began combing th
rough the leaves. I stole a few glances in his direction. With dark hair and stubble along his jawline, he reminded me of Hook on my favorite TV show, Once Upon a Time, minus the sexy accent. “I saw you playing with that little girl. Is she your daughter?”

  “My niece. I’m not married, but I like playing favorite uncle.”

  “It looked like you’re were definitely in the running.”

  Hook, or Travis, looked even better with that info, and I had to remind myself I was searching for keys, not a date.

  “Four-year-olds are pretty easy to please.” He nodded toward the flower bed I’d been digging in. “So do you like your job? The park is beautiful, by the way.”

  “Thanks. I do enjoy working here. I graduated in landscape architecture, and this seemed like a great stepping stone into the field. My grandma was a bit underwhelmed— not many bragging rights— but I really do like it more than I thought I would.” I ducked my head, embarrassed at all the information I’d just given a stranger. Well, I knew his name, so he wasn’t a complete stranger.

  Travis met my gaze, picking up on my admission. “It’s okay to love your job, even if it’s different from what everyone else expects. I’m a diesel-engine mechanic. My white-collar dad definitely didn’t approve of me donning the blue collar, but I love what I do and hope to have my own shop one day.”

  My hands stilled in the leaves, and I looked at Travis. He had dark-brown eyes unlike Hook, so surely he couldn’t be an evil villain. “It’s so nice to talk to someone who understands.”

  He paused, brushing a hand across the stubble on his chin. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  My heart felt jittery, and a rush of heat came to my cheeks. “Um, don’t laugh, but I’m going to use my favorite trick to try to find your keys.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I can’t make any promises. I might laugh.”

  I shrugged. “Fair enough.” Glancing behind me, I saw the remains of the leaf pile Travis had been tossing his niece into. The leaves crunched under my feet as I walked to the pile; I kicked some of the leaves then backed up a few paces. Travis was hot, so it was worth embarrassing myself to find his keys. I lay flat on my belly and squinted at the millions of blades of grass and crumbled leaves scattered in the distance. A few strands had come loose from the knot of hair I’d fixed earlier, so I tucked them behind my ear. I heard Travis chuckle but ignored him and continued using the Warren Secret Spy Method, angling my head so my view skimmed along the ground.

  Leaves crunched beside me, and I looked over to see Travis mimicking my pose. He winked at me. “I know this trick. My brother and I used to do it to find stray marbles in the gravel.”

  “Most kids know it, but most adults have forgotten.”

  “Or maybe they have more pride than we do.”

  I giggled and rolled over in the leaves, moving to a different vantage point. The sun chose that moment to break through the mass of cumulus clouds scattered across the sky. The leaves turned from red to golden, and I caught a glint of metal about ten feet in front of me.

  “Aha!” I shouted and jumped up, keeping my eyes trained on the sparkle I’d seen. When I picked them up, the keys jingled together. “Found ’em.” I dangled the keys triumphantly as Travis approached.

  “Thanks, Jillian.” Travis held out his palm, and I dropped the keys into it. “You’re amazing.” His tone was light, but I chose to find a deeper meaning in his words.

  “Glad to help.”

  “I really appreciate you helping me out.” Travis pocketed his keys. “There’s this great café a couple of blocks down. They serve the best Mexican hot chocolate. Could I treat you to some?”

  “I love The Sugar Cube. Let me just finish up with these bulbs.”

  “Ah, so you know the place. Let me help. I owe you big time.” Travis followed me to the flower bed and plopped a tulip bulb into one of the holes I’d dug.

  “Thanks.” I examined his work with a nod. “I’m impressed you knew which way to plant the bulb. My brother doesn’t know anything about flowers.”

  “I may be a bachelor, but my mother had a prized flower garden, and she taught me a few things.” Travis pointed at my fingernails. “Her hands always looked like that in the fall— mine, too. She’s been gone for almost ten years, but for a while, I had my own bulb garden in her honor.”

  I had started to curl my fingers inward at his attention, but the affection in his voice made me proud to show my work-worn hands. I patted the earth down around the new plantings. “Really? What was her favorite flower?”

  “Daffodils. She must have had a dozen varieties. I always liked these little miniature ones she used to plant around the tulips.” He got a faraway look in his eyes as he grabbed a handful of bulbs. “How about you?”

  “Hyacinths. I’ll be planting a pink variety tomorrow that I think smells a little like heaven.”

  As he reached for the last tulip bulb, his hand brushed mine. He liked the dirt under my fingernails. I almost laughed at the thought. Too many dates with business men, lawyers, and would-be doctors had me feeling ashamed of my chipped nails. Travis was different. We’d just had a conversation about varieties of flower bulbs. He was handsome and looking better by the minute.

  We stood and brushed the dirt from our clothes. “Thanks for the help. I usually don’t work this late, but I got a little carried away with this flowerbed.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be beautiful. I’m glad you were still here.” His smile widened. “I have to say, I’m kind of glad I lost my keys.”

  The blush tinting my cheeks had me feeling like a school girl, so I hurriedly gathered my tools and tossed them in the back of the Gator— my golf cart on steroids. I loved driving it around the park.

  “Can I give you a ride to The Sugar Cube?” he asked.

  I looked at my dirt-smudged jeans and wrinkled my nose at the dark smear of mud on my t-shirt. “I’m kind of a mess.”

  “I think you look cute.” He motioned to his right knee. “And look; I have a matching stain.”

  “Okay, let’s go.” I stowed my tools and followed Travis to his car.

  Chapter Two

  The sunset tinged the sky with purple as we drove to the city center. Travis opened my door and grabbed a booth in the back corner of the café where it was quiet and the lights were dim. A few minutes later, we were warming our hands on mugs of hot cocoa topped with whipped cream. The jitters in my stomach were pleasant, but I wasn’t ready to give in to them yet. This was a thank you, not a date— it had been too long since I’d had a good date.

  “Have you lived in Boise long?” Travis asked.

  “I’m pretty much a full-blooded Idahoan. How about you?”

  “I’ve spent some time in Montana, but I’m back to my roots. It’s nice to be close to family, especially since, well, Heidi is growing up fast.”

  I could tell he meant to say something else, and judging by the shadow that crossed his face, it was something painful. My curiosity reared its persistent head, but I sipped my cocoa and steered the conversation elsewhere.

  “Guess how many bulbs I’ll be planting in the park this fall.”

  Travis looked up and pretended to calculate. “Three-hundred.”

  I laughed. “I wish.”

  “More than that?” he asked, his eyes bright with interest.

  “Only about five times more.”

  Travis whistled. “That’ll mean a beautiful park come springtime, but that’s a ton of work.”

  “I don’t mind. We’ve never had this many to plant before, but someone donated money for a special memorial garden. I’m thrilled with the plans I’ve drawn up. It really is going to be beautiful.”

  “That’s nice.” Travis sat up straight and clenched his fingers into a fist.

  “What’s wrong?” I blurted before remembering that I barely knew him.

  He swallowed, and when he looked at me, I could see a sparkle of moisture in his eyes. “I wasn’t going to say anything, because it kind of k
ills light conversation, but I know about that memorial garden. The reason I moved back here has to do with my sister and my niece. It’s a part of my reality that I can’t get away from no matter how hard I try.”

  Again, I swallowed back my questions. “I’m sorry. We can talk about something else.” I was ruining things by dominating the conversation with talk of bulbs and gardens. Did I really think this gorgeous guy would be interested in my fall planting plans?

  “No, it’s okay. That memorial garden is for Craig Simmons.”

  “Did you know him?” Something pinged in my brain at the name. The guy had been some kind of business consultant, and his firm had made the donation for the garden. I couldn’t remember all of the details, but judging by the look on Travis’s face, he was going to tell me.

  “He was my brother-in-law. He was murdered six months ago.”

  I gasped. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up sad memories.”

  “Not at all. It’s kind of a neat coincidence to meet the person in charge of Craig’s memorial. His firm, True Assets, wanted to do something for the family. Kami suggested the park, because Heidi loved to go there with her dad.”

  I thought of the sloping ground covered with gravel on the north edge of the park, which had been cleared of crabgrass, dandelions, and June grass. It had been a sore spot in my park for the past two years, and I was happy to make something beautiful out of the offensive weeds.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” I licked my lips before continuing. “I’ll work extra hard on that garden.”

  “I’m sure you will. More than one person in this town has bragged about their beautiful park, and that’s thanks to your care of it.”

  “Thank you.” The boost to my ego was almost enough to drown out my curiosity. Almost. “Did they catch the person who killed Craig?”